Feb 15
See no difference (affectionately)
seen from Sweden
seen from Jordan
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Belarus
seen from Egypt
seen from Thailand
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Philippines
seen from Singapore
seen from Russia
seen from France
seen from France
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Jordan
seen from United States
seen from United States
See no difference (affectionately)
Wear Out My Name - Quinn Hughes
Summary: Quinn loves hearing y/n say his name for any reason, because he loves that she needs him so openly and doesn't shy from it. Even if she's mad, he just loves his name in her voice.
Author note: sort of a request for more of the youngest sibling!reader from @lilmoonily03
Themes/warnings: Smut, pretty much brat!reader
Quinn Hughes x youngest sibling!reader
Word count: 1.8k
Quinn steps into the apartment and is almost alarmed by the silence but he only gets one step in.
"Quinn!" Y/n exclaims making him feel like everything is completely correct in the universe. Her whiny tone bringing him more comfort than he'd care to admit.
"What is it baby?" Quinn smiles as she appears pouting, eyes rimmed and puffy which makes him actually worry as he closes the space between them with a bit more speed. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"I tripped over and bit my tongue." Y/n mumbles which quickly returns his smile before he pulls her chin a little to drop her jaw making before she sticks out her tongue.
He can't actually see any damage but he plants a kiss on her tongue anyway making her jump back with a nearly accusing expression.
"Kissing it better, baby." Quinn smiles pulling her closer again. "I got you a gift while I was gone."
"You did?" Y/n gasps perking up, the bitten tongue long forgotten like the "magic" kiss fixed it immediately. Though when Quinn is moving fast enough, y/n begins to poke having given him a whole 5 seconds to move and reveal the gift. So his name is whined out again making her bite back a smile. "Quinn...what did you get me?"
"So impatient." Quinn chuckles as he moves back to his bag and pulls out a few books that he'd spotted while killing time on his way to dinner with some of the team. He'd ended up in a book shop, admittedly to buy some of his own books, but he couldn't help but search for some of the books that contain filth his girlfriend enjoys reading. "I don't think I recognised any of these from your current collection."
"No. I don't think I've seen these before. Thank you, baby." Y/n hums then grinning as she moves and pecks his lips only for his hand to grip onto her waist and she is kept in a deepening kiss. Y/n tries to break it, but Quinn is unwavering. "Quinn-"
"What baby?" Quinn asks moving his lips from her own to the column of her neck, his nose nudging her jaw to force her head back and give him better access.
Y/n whimpers a little when his teeth sink into her skin a little as he pushes her back.
In truth his favourite thing for a welcome home is always going to be sex. But one big part of that is always his biggest turn on and it's hearing his name spill past y/n's lips again and again.
This time he bent her over the arm of the sofa, teasing her as he pressed his tip against her pussy, slipping forward over her clit. Aided by her dripping wetness making her give him the exact thing he wants.
"Quinn." Y/n whines shifting forward and trying to move back hoping to impale herself on him but failing as he slips and knocks her clit again making her snap a little more annoyed this time. "Quinn."
He doesn't bother to reply with anything verbal, only taking the double whine of his name as reason to thrust forward into her. Both their moans reverb around them.
Quinn is thrusting in and out of her with vigour, hands holding her waist and pressing her further into the arm of the sofa to maintain the control he knows she wants to fight him for but he's lost in his own chase for lust.
Y/n gets off on rougher treatment anyway, something about her youngest child brattiness needing some sort of taming. At least that's how Quinn views it, and maybe gets off on it.
When y/n nears her high Quinn's name rings out her mouth like a prayer and as if it actually is possible to wear out his name, each one grow quieter and weaker before she completely loses her voice. Her pussy spasming around him as he holds her hips using her orgasm to milk himself to his finish before slamming into her as he practically inflates her with his cum.
The heat following her and stretching her walls makes her moan his name one final time. He leans over her holding his body over her own for a second before he kisses her back.
"Aright, baby." Quinn sighs with a smile easing out of her and moving back.
He sucks in a breath finding the view of her completely unmoving as his cum leaks back out of her onto the floor.
They could never have carpet with how much cleaning up his returns home require. Rarely do they actually make it to the bedroom.
"Let's get you cleaned up." Quinn chuckles giving her a gently pat on the ass while she whines at him but makes no effort to move.
-
Quinn sighs as he runs his finger up y/n's spine, standing at the bar as she wears a backless dress.
His brothers and himself just had their last game against each other for the season and going out for a last.
"Quinn." Y/n grumbles as she continues to go ignored by the bartender.
They've been here enough times that the bartender seems familiar with Quinn's gentle possessiveness, harsh enough that the bartender won't approach till Quinn turns properly. At the moment his back is leaning against the counter.
"What?" He asks softly knowing exactly what she's whining his name for. But he's like a genie, in his head he's set a new rule that he needs her to say it three times.
"Quinn, we're supposed to be getting drinks for the table and I'm being ignored and you're not helping." Y/n huffs, glaring at him but he just continues to trace up and down her spine, waiting for that last ring of his name. "Quinn." Her tone snappy and sharp as she loses her patience, probably on the edge of climbing on the counter and jumping to make her own drinks.
Quinn finally turns raising his hand and getting attention immediately while y/n huffs from beside him. He orders the drinks with y/n's input as she leaned on the counter.
Quinn takes the drinks for himself and his brothers while y/n picks up her cocktail and frolics over to his brothers.
Y/n spends the night drinking and drinking till she's practically latched onto Quinn, whining his name as the night draws to a close and they leave, parting ways from Jack and Luke.
They get back to his apartment and y/n slides out her dress before Quinn has even got the chance to close the door properly.
"Quinn." Y/n sighs like a siren calling for him to follow her which he does without a second thought, picking up the dress with a small smirk to himself.
By the time he catches up with y/n, she is crawling onto the bed, completely naked, rubbing at her face lazily with a make up remover wipe.
"Quinn, can you finish it?" Y/n pouts holding out the wipe but Quinn moves to get a clean one, taking the dirty one from her and holding it with his other hand as he gently wipes off her face clean of any residue the first wipe didn't get off. "Thank you, Quinny."
He smiles leaning down kissing her softly which she melts into and chases him as he pulls away from her then smiling lazily at him in all her naked glory.
Her hands raise and make a grabby motion, a silent request (or demand) for him to cuddle with her. He undresses and climbs into the bed with her, rearranging her so she's also laid under the sheets and pressed to him.
"You know my name has never sounded as good as when you say it." Quinn states softly as she nuzzles her face into his neck.
"Quinn." Y/n hums before her tongue strays past her lips and she licks up his neck then giggling to herself while Quinn sighs at her drunk antics.
-
It's rare that y/n is genuinely angry at Quinn. She gets snappy or huffy with him. But upset and angry at him? That's so rare he could count the amount of times on one hand.
In her defence, this occasion was justified. Or it certainly was in her head.
"Quinn, you never listen!" Y/n barks, fists balled and face flustered with emotion. Not the good kind, but it fails to have the intended effect on her boyfriend. Instead all he wants is her to keep saying his name. It's practically hypnotic to him.
"It's just shampoo, baby." Quinn states and she withdraws like he's just told her that a dead rat would makes an acceptable loofah.
"It's the wrong shampoo, Quinn." Y/n frowns crossing her arms, still unaware of how much he's loving the sound of his name in her voice.
She'd asked him to get her shampoo on his way home and while he remember the brand and shape of the bottle. He did not remember the exact label, so he got the wrong specific type. A fool's mistake but he made it none the less.
"I'm sorry." He concedes and y/n melts in an instant. "I'll go out and buy the right one. I'll buy a few bottles so you have a few for a while."
Y/n shuffles towards him and he smiles accepting her hug as she slides her arms around his waist and he pulls her tightly to himself.
"I'm sorry...Can I blame mercury in retrograde?" Y/n mumbles, words muffled by her face pressed into his chest.
"You can blame whatever you like."
"Quinn..."
"What...?"
"I'll just use this shampoo then we can buy more. No point in wasting it. That's stupid."
God forbid y/n do something she deems stupid.
"Alright, well I'll still grab some next time I go out at least." Quinn promises and earns no voice of argument for that. "I love you, baby."
"I love you too, Quinn." Y/n hums, practically purring his name with the knowledge of it having such an effect on him.
Y/n flutters her eyes in a way that has been perfect by years of working her parents and anyone else to get her way.
"Quinn..." Y/n sighs softly earning a look. "...Can we please get to the lake house before your brothers this time? I want time alone there without them."
He's certain this is a side effect of being the last child standing when it came to living under her parents roof. She seems to find it a little more overwhelming or overstimulating to be in such a crowded house without being given time to acclimatise to the unfamiliar environment before being thrust into socialising too.
"Yeah, if you want baby. We can do whatever you want." Quinn nods, though he's hyperaware that she knows starting any request with his name is going to be met with agreement to her any demand.
1177
Hughes Brothers.
From Getty (1, 2, 3).
Hughes Pregame vs. Montreal 2/2 | Quinn Hughes
pillowtalk - qh43 x f!reader
★ A/N - first quinn fic and it's incredibly self-indulgent, sorry if you're not about this life. i'm trying to get better about labels n such, sorry if i forget things! hus lowk out here being evil and getting abused by nm29...😔 AND NOW HE'S NEARLY BALD WHERE'D HIS HAIR GO
☾ warnings - oral (m receiving), oral fixation (sucking on fingers???), cum eating, established relationship, lots of praising, aftercare, softdom!quinn, head pushing, shy(ish)!reader, i think thats it❤️
✽ word count - 2356 words
Quinn notices it before you realize you’re doing it.
Again.
You’re sitting beside him on the couch, tucked against his side while some movie plays in the background, neither of you really paying attention to it. Your cheek rests against his shoulder, one of his hands lazily rubbing up and down your thigh beneath the blanket.
Your mouth is wrapped around the drawstring of his hoodie, chewing and sucking mindlessly, something that was soothing to you.
Quinn slightly adjusts in his seat and glances down at you after a minute, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Baby.”
“Hm?”
“You’re doing it again.”
You blink up at him, confused for half a second, before realizing. Slowly, you let the string fall from between your lips.
“Oh… m’sorry”
His eyes darken a little, and his other hand reaches down, fingers brushing through your hair before settling against the side of your neck. The touch is light, absentminded almost, but it makes warmth bloom instantly beneath your skin.
“It’s okay," he murmurs, your faces so close together, noses lightly grazing one another.
You can feel his steady breaths fan across your face, the slow rise and fall of his chest. Everything about him feels loud, your body vibrating with need.
His hand slides from your neck up, settling against your jaw, his thumb gliding across your cheek before toying with your bottom lip, eyes flicking down.
“You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, almost like it annoys him.
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Yeah.” His voice lowers. “But right now it’s distracting.”
Before you can bite back at him, his thumb pulls your lip down as he uses his pointer to tap your cheek, causing your mouth to fall open up for him. Quinn’s thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Almost on instinct, you hum and suck, causing him to freeze for a second.
Not because he wants to stop you but because the feeling catches him off guard.
A quiet breath leaves him as his eyes lock on yours, pupils blown wide, his thumb still resting heavy against your tongue while you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, lashes fluttering.
“Jesus,” he mutters softly.
The sound vibrates straight through you.
His head tips back briefly against the couch cushion like he’s trying to collect himself, but it doesn’t last long. Not when you’re still looking at him like that, lips wrapped gently around his thumb, your hand curling tighter into the front of his hoodie.
His gaze drops to your mouth again, then back to your eyes. The tension in the room turns thick so quickly it almost makes your head spin.
“You’re trouble,” he says quietly, his voice rougher now.
You hum softly around his thumb at that, your tongue feeling out his digit. Quinn exhales sharply through his nose, eyes shutting for the briefest second.
“Baby,” he murmurs, almost warningly, but he doesn’t pull away.
The movie continues, forgotten in the background, while his thumb slowly slides from your mouth, dragging lightly against your bottom lip before his hand cups your jaw again.
Your cheeks feel warm under his palm, and that alone was wrecking Quinn.
Hair messy from where you’d been rubbing his scalp earlier, lips parted slightly, cheeks warm, and eyes fixed entirely on you, unsure of what to do first.
His lips hovered over yours before he decided that he had waited long enough.
A needy groan bubbled from his throat when your lips touched, his arm tightening around your waist beneath your hoodie, fingertips pressing into bare skin. You can feel how carefully restrained he’s trying to stay, even as his breathing gets uneven against your mouth.
You shift closer into his lap without much thinking, Quinn groaning quietly against your lips.
“That’s my girl,” he coos while a smirk begins to stretch across his face.
The words go straight through you, warmth blooming beneath your skin as your fingers slide back into his hair, tugging just enough to pull a deeper sound from him. Quinn responds instantly, kissing you deeper, slower, despite the growing need behind it. Lips warm against yours, your breaths uneven, his forehead brushes yours briefly before his mouth drifts along your jaw instead.
Every touch feels intentional, like he’s savoring you. His mouth brushes beneath your ear again, and you inhale sharply, fingers gripping his shoulders. Quinn smiles faintly against your skin at the sound.
“So pretty when you get like this,” he murmurs softly before pressing a kiss to your earlobe, sending a shot of chills down your spine, your body like a hot wire.
His hand slides from your jaw down the side of your neck, fingertips dragging lightly over your skin before settling at your waist again beneath the hoodie. Warm palm against bare skin, possessive enough to make your stomach tighten.
You can feel how carefully he’s holding himself together, the restraint in the way he touches you. The way he pauses for half a second every time you react to him, like he’s trying not to completely lose his mind over it.
Your fingers stay tangled in his hair while Quinn kisses along your throat, unhurried and deliberate. Every brush of his mouth makes your breathing shakier, your body leaning further into him without even realizing it.
“Quinn…” You whisper softly.
“Hm?” His voice vibrates against your skin, you shiver instantly in response.
That gets a quiet laugh out of him, low and rough near your ear, before he pulls back just enough to look at you again.
And the look on his face nearly ruins you.
Heavy green eyes fixed on your swollen lips. Flushed cheeks. Hair falling messily over his forehead from where your hands keep pulling at it. His brows are slightly furrowed, like he’s trying so hard to stay patient with you.
His thumb brushes over your bottom lip again, slower this time, his eyes following the movement.
“You get so worked up,” he murmurs softly, almost distracted by it. “Need something in your mouth, huh, baby?”
The question has your voice stuck in your throat, so you nod quickly.
Quinn’s breath catches the second you move from his lap, realizing what you’re doing.
Your eyes stay locked on his as you slowly sink to your knees, lowering yourself between his thighs, your hands brushing over his quads for balance. The look on his face changes instantly. His jaw tightening, lashes lowering slightly, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion like he suddenly needs something to ground himself.
“Baby,” he says softly, warmth floods your entire body at the sound of it.
You glance up at him through your lashes, fingers hooking loosely around the strings of his sweats, pulling them undone torturously slow.
“You’re teasing,” he murmurs.
Your hands smooth slowly up and down his thighs, feeling the tension beneath them, and Quinn’s head tips back briefly against the couch cushion before his eyes find yours again immediately, like he can’t stop looking at you.
One of his hands slides into your hair, gentle and warm, fingertips grazing your scalp in a way that makes your stomach tighten. Not pushing or forcing. Just touching you, like he’s already overwhelmed by how good you look kneeling in front of him.
“So pretty like this,” he says quietly.
The praise goes straight through you.
You lean closer slowly, bringing your hands up, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweats while Quinn watches every movement with parted lips and uneven breathing. His thumb strokes softly through your hair again when you look up at him, eyes dark and completely fixed on you as you tug them down his thighs, he lifts his hips to help.
“Look at me,” he murmurs.
You glance up to meet his glazed-over eyes, while his growing erection presses against the fabric of his boxers. Your hand automatically palming over him, light and teasing, before reaching to grab at the elastic, dragging it down his hips and off.
“Fuck,” he groans under his breath, fingers tightening briefly in your hair before softening again just as quickly. Quinn looks completely unraveled already, flushed cheeks, messy hair, chest rising unevenly beneath the hoodie.
His thumb strokes gently along your hair again while his other hand drops from the couch cushion to your cheek, fingertips brushing softly over your jaw.
“So good,” he murmurs quietly. “So pretty kneeling for me.”
Your hand carefully wrapping around the base of his cock, flushed and heavy sitting in your palm before tracing a vein from the bottom to the tip with the flat of your tongue, causing him to shiver, a small, whiny moan wobbling out of his mouth. His head tilted back, fighting to still watch you carefully.
Your lips suction around him before you take him as deep as possible in your mouth, the salty tang of his precum overwhelming your senses. His tip touching the back of your throat causes you to gag around him as you bob your head.
“Shhh,” Quinn coos while he rubs your cheek to soothe you. “You’re taking me so well.”
You hollow your cheeks before slowly pulling back, flickering your gaze up at him through your lashes. His eyes are still locked onto you, jaw slack while low noises continuously stream out.
The hand in your hair pulls back just enough to comb through once again, grabbing a fistful of hair at the scalp. “This okay?” he asks quickly, earning a half-nod from you, a moan vibrating in your throat as he silently begins guiding you through it.
His hips slightly lifting with impatience as he gently forces your mouth to take him deeper, needing to feel you swallow around him desperately, your eyes pooling up with salty tears as you gag.
You bring your hand to his thigh, giving him three light taps. He pulls you off him quickly as you cough, inhaling as much air as you can get. Your hands immediately wrap back around his cock, pumping him steadily in your mouth's place.
“Such a good girl, m’so close,” he mutters, leaning over close to press a kiss on your head and cheek. “Gonna let me cum down that pretty throat?”
Filthy words caused your stomach to flip as you grew hot in the face, flushed with embarrassment and the softness of his praise.
You nod eagerly, taking his tip back into your mouth while sucking harshly, one hand back on his thigh for support. Quinn’s hand in your hair, pushing you to take the rest of his length, the warm tears flowing over and down your cheeks.
“I’m gonna cum, holy fuck," he sighs, thighs tensing up under your touch.
You look up to watch as he throws his head back against the cushion of the couch, hips snapping up uncontrollably to meet the back of your throat.
A sharp, wobbled groan breaks from his chest as you feel his hot release shoot into your mouth, swallowing around him before gently pulling back, making sure not to spill a drop, watching as he winces in overstimulation.
You rest your cheek on his thigh, trying to catch your breath as his eyes blink open, his chest heaving from his orgasm.
When he looks back down at you, his pupils are blown out, searching for a hint of hurt or discomfort in your eyes. You feel his hand release your hair from its grip, cupping your face in his palms. Thumbs rubbing against your cheeks, wiping any tears from your eyes, then smoothing your hair out carefully.
“C’mere, baby,” he coos, pulling you up from your knees and back on the couch. His arms wrap around you as he tucks you into his chest, rubbing your back, arms, anywhere he could reach. It was a grounding habit of his that you’ve grown to love.
“You okay?” he asks quietly after a minute. His breathing is still labored, but the softness in his voice makes something warm bloom in your chest.
You tilt your head enough to look up at him. His hair’s a mess, cheeks still slightly flushed, lips pink and swollen. He looks blissed out and completely gone for you.
“Mhm,” you murmur. “You?”
A sleepy smile pulls at his mouth.
“M’great.”
You laugh quietly at that, and Quinn immediately tightens his arm around you. Your fingers drift absentmindedly under his hoodie, across the skin of his stomach, and Quinn shivers slightly before catching your hand gently and bringing it up to his lips instead.
He kisses your knuckles once.
Then again.
“You were really good for me tonight,” he murmurs softly.
Heat creeps into your cheeks immediately. “Quinn.”
“What?” His eyes open slightly to look down at you, amused now.
You hide your face against his chest with a groan, and Quinn laughs quietly, the sound vibrating beneath your cheek. His hand slides into your hair again automatically, scratching lightly at your scalp in the way he knows makes you melt.
“You’re cute when you get shy after,” he says.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No. I don't," you murmur back. Especially not when he’s looking at you like this, soft and completely relaxed now that you’re tucked safely against him.
Quinn presses another kiss to the top of your head before reaching blindly toward the coffee table beside the couch. A second later, he holds your water bottle out toward you without even looking.
“Drink,” he says gently.
You smile a little. “Bossy.”
“Mhm.” He waits until you take it before settling back against the cushions again. “And you like that too.”
“Oh my god,” you huff before taking a sip. Quinn places your bottle somewhere before he pulls you right back into his chest while his fingertips continue their lazy path along your back.
“You tired?” he murmurs.
“A little.”
“Good.” His lips brush your forehead softly. “Take a nap with me.”
Your eyes drift shut almost instantly at the feeling of his hand in your hair again.
And just before you fully fall asleep, you hear him mumble quietly against the top of your head, “My girl.”
thank u for reading!! feel free to chat in my inbox!! i am always down to be a freak or talk whenever! ✭
2026 © MALUVV all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on any other platform pls & thank you!
i like hearing dirty words come from his mouth.
Blue Line Seats
Summary: You win Olympic gold with Team USA, Quinn is already there. And Jack won’t stop talking…
Word Count: 2,050
A/N: wrote this before they actually won… so details aren’t realistic to the actual game!🤗 just felt fitting to post now!!
You spot them before you even get off the ice.
Not because they’re being loud. Jack is, obviously. But it’s not that. It’s just… familiar. Like your brain locks onto them without trying.
Jack is halfway out of his seat, yelling something you can’t hear through the glass, both hands up like he personally assisted on your goal. A couple rows down, Quinn is standing too, but he’s quieter about it. Just clapping, jaw tight, like he’s trying not to react too much and failing anyway.
You don’t wave. Not yet. You’ve still got a shift left, and your legs are shaking in that way that has nothing to do with exhaustion.
The game isn’t technically over.
But it kind of is.
—
The buzzer hits and everything breaks open.
Sticks drop. Gloves fly. Someone tackles you from the side and you don’t even know who it is at first. The noise is unreal, all of it blending into this one long, overwhelming roar.
You hug whoever’s in front of you. Then the next person. Then the next.
Gold.
You actually did it.
There’s a moment, maybe thirty seconds or maybe five minutes, where everything slows down just enough for it to land. You look up into the stands again, almost without thinking.
Jack is losing his mind.
Quinn just looks at you.
Not smiling, not yelling, just staring like he’s trying to memorize it.
You nod once, small. He nods back.
That’s it.
-
The medal ceremony feels longer than the actual game.
You stand there, shoulder to shoulder with your teammates, trying to keep your composure and mostly failing. When they hang the medal around your neck, it’s heavier than you expected.
You don’t cry until the anthem starts.
After that, it’s kind of over for you.
—
By the time you get off the ice, the controlled chaos has turned into full chaos.
Media. Staff. Teammates getting pulled in different directions. Someone hands you a jacket. Someone else asks you where you’re supposed to be in five minutes.
You’re still trying to process everything when a familiar voice cuts through it.
“Hey.”
You turn.
Quinn isn’t in a rush. He never is. He’s standing just outside the cluster of people, hands in his pockets like he’s been there the whole time.
“You good?” he asks.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Yeah. I think so.”
He nods once. Steps closer. His eyes flick briefly to the medal, then back to your face.
“That was…” He pauses, like he’s deciding how to say it. “Really good.”
You laugh, because of course that’s what he goes with. “Really good?”
“Yeah.”
“Not, like, life-changing? Historic? Incredible?”
He shrugs. “I mean, sure. But also really good.”
You shake your head, smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”
Before he can respond, Jack barrels into you from the side.
“YOU WON THE OLYMPICS.”
“Hi, Jack,” you manage, as he nearly knocks you off balance.
“I told you,” he says, like this was somehow his prediction coming true. “I literally said you were gonna score.”
“You say that every game.”
“Yeah, but this one counted more.”
Quinn steps back slightly, giving you space as Jack keeps talking, already halfway into a recap of the game you just played.
“…and that second period shift? Actually insane. Like I don’t even know how you saw that lane—”
“Jack,” Quinn cuts in.
“What?”
“Let her breathe.”
“I am letting her breathe.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Barely.”
Jack grins, unapologetic. “Okay, but seriously. That was sick.”
“Thank you.”
He gestures toward the medal. “Can I—”
“No.”
“I didn’t even finish asking.”
“You were going to.”
“Yeah, I was.”
You both laugh.
—
It’s not until later, when things calm down a little, that you see his mom.
She’s been busy the whole time. Clipboard, headset, moving between staff like this is just another day at work, even though it’s definitely not.
When she finally makes her way over, she doesn’t make a big deal out of it either.
She just pulls you into a hug.
“I’m so proud of you,” she says, simple and direct.
“Thank you.”
She squeezes your shoulder once before stepping back, already half-turned to go handle something else.
—
The locker room is loud again, but it’s a different kind of loud now. Music, laughter, people talking over each other.
Your phone is blowing up, but you ignore it for a while.
You sit at your stall, medal still on, turning it over in your hands like you’re trying to convince yourself it’s real.
It doesn’t fully sink in.
Not yet.
—
When you finally leave, they’re waiting near the exit.
Jack is on his phone, probably texting someone about how he witnessed greatness firsthand. Quinn looks up when you walk over.
“You ready?” he asks.
“For what?”
He gestures vaguely. “I don’t know. Whatever comes after winning gold.”
You think about it. “Food. Definitely food.”
“Yeah, that tracks.”
Jack looks up. “Can we go somewhere normal? I feel like everywhere is gonna be insane.”
“You’re the one who’s not even in the tournament,” you point out.
“Yeah, but I’m associated now,” he says. “I was in the stands.”
Quinn rolls his eyes. “That’s not how that works.”
“It should be.”
—
You end up somewhere lowkey.
Nothing fancy. No cameras. Just a place that stays open late and doesn’t care who you are.
You sit across from Quinn, medal finally off and sitting on the table between you.
Jack is still talking.
“…and then when the buzzer went, I swear the guy next to me almost fell over—”
“Jack,” you say, “do you ever get tired?”
“No.”
“Yeah,” Quinn adds, “that was a dumb question.”
You smile, leaning back in your chair.
For the first time all day, it’s quiet in your head.
No game. No pressure. No expectations.
Just this.
Quinn glances at the medal again, then back at you. “Does it feel different yet?”
“A little.”
“How?”
You think for a second. “It feels… finished.”
He nods like that makes sense.
Jack leans over, finally managing to pick up the medal when you’re not paying attention.
“Hey—”
“It’s heavy,” he says, surprised.
“Yeah,” you reply. “It is.”
He turns it over, examining it. “This is actually crazy.”
Quinn takes it from him after a second, more careful about it.
He doesn’t put it on. Just holds it for a moment.
“You earned this,” he says, handing it back.
—
Later, when you’re back at the hotel with Quinn after you managed to escape the village, everything starts to catch up with you.
The exhaustion. The adrenaline wearing off. The reality of what just happened.
You sit on the edge of the bed, medal in your lap again.
Quinn is by the window, looking out at the city.
“You gonna sleep?” he asks.
“Eventually.”
He nods. “You should.”
“I know.”
You don’t move.
After a second, he walks over and sits next to you.
“You played well,” he says.
You glance at him. “You already said that.”
“I know.”
“Anything else you wanna add?”
He shrugs. “Not really. That kind of covers it.”
You laugh softly. “You’re the worst.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a pause.
Then, quieter, “I mean it though.”
“I know.”
You lean back, letting your shoulders relax for the first time all day.
He stays there, close but not crowding you, like he always does.
—
The medal ends up on the nightstand.
You turn the light off, the room going dim except for the city glow through the window.
For a second, you just lie there, staring at the ceiling.
“You good?” he asks again.
This time, you answer without thinking.
“Yeah.”
And you are.
Not because of the medal, or the crowd, or any of the noise that came with it.
Just because it’s over.
And he was there to see it.
chapter three: quinnesota
a hockey player's guide to fatherhood ≔
a quinn hughes x single!mom reader series 🏒🖤
<- previous chapter
next chapter ->
WARNINGS: very fluffy
a/n: i have up until ch7 planned, but i would love any and all ideas!!
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The head coach and Bill will be in Vancouver in two hours since they'd already gotten on the jet before calling your boyfriend.
You can't believe it but...you're excited?
Maybe its the chance to start anew somewhere fun. Maybe its that your little boy would finally get to grow up in a big, happy home unlike the one you grew up in. Maybe its knowing that you and Quinn are taking the next step. You smile to yourself thinking about how its really all of the above.
You had told Cooper the big news. He let out a shriek and ran into his room.
You chuckled at his antics and wrapped your arms around Quinn. "Guess we should listen to him and pack, huh?", you ask while looking into his eyes. He hummed and kissed you all over your face.
You stand there together in your own bubble for a few minutes. Three years ago, this would have all seemed impossible. Reality shifts when you least expect it and oh are you grateful.
You pull away from Quinn with a pat on your back. You go to Coop's room and you instantly stop in your tracks at his door.
Cooper's already packing everything. Well, maybe not everything. More like his stuffed duck, favorite blanket, and his mini-stick. That's certainly a start.
"Whatcha doin', Coop?", you ask him.
"Packing! Did you start, momma?"
You get the strongest case of cuteness agression and get down to his level. You squeeze him and lay a kiss on his little head. You wonder when your baby got so big, but you know it was within all those hours that you and Quinn poured love into him.
He scoots you out of the room after reminding you that packing was for now, not later.
Quinn's talking to his parents via phone call in the living room when you next see him.
"Yes, mom. Yes. Well, not yet", he responds.
You plop yourself down next to him on the couch. "Mom, yes. Of course, we'll try to see you more often", he says while winking at you. "Yeah, I'll tell her you said hi. Thanks, you two. Love you."
He turns his personal phone off and ushers you into his arms. You know you should be packing, but you'd much rather bask in this moment.
Cooper runs into the living room with his huge backpack on his shoulders. "Momma, Quinn! Pack!", he exclaims.
You and Quinn look at each other in the eyes and dissolve into laughter. You finally both get up and start the worst part of moving: packing.
An hour and a half later, Quinn gets a call that they're outside. He tells them you'll all be down in five.
The three of you are at the door, when you look up and see how misty Quinn's eyes just got.
You nudge him and he looks down at the two of you. "Just so grateful for this place. It gave my family a home", he sniffles.
You couldn't disagree more. "No, babe. You gave us a home. You completed us."
He looked devastated at your words but you could tell he needed to hear them. You often wonder if Quinn knows how much he adds to your family. He isn't a plus one, he was the missing number in the equation all along.
You know he feels immense guilt for taking you and Cooper from Vancouver, but the truth of the matter is that since you're all still going to be together, everything will be alright.
"Go!", Cooper (slightly) rudely interrupts.
Quinn locks the door behind him and you all head down to the first level. You'll miss this place. But, you'd much rather miss the past than regret the choices you didn't make for your future.
"Quinn! How are you, boy?", Bill asks your boyfriend in front of a sleek black car.
"Couldn't be better, Bill", he replies.
"And whose this little superhero?", Bill asks your son.
He giggles and you feel a sense of ease wash over you. Quinn's new team seems to be pretty good people.
You get settled into the car and watch the scenery change the closer you get to the airport. Minnesota is nothing like Vancouver. Will the mountains be wilder? The people kinder? The kids accepting of Cooper?
You arrive at the private terminal with Cooper in hand. He's twitchy from excitement from the move and it being his first time flying private.
Quinn smiles at you from the top set of stairs. "Ready?", his eyes ask you.
You nod gently and get inside with Coop right behind you.
Within ten minutes of being on the plane, Cooper's tired out. He's sleeping on Quinn's lap with his legs on yours. Quinn's hand is engulfing yours in warmth and safety.
Minnesota isn't home yet. But, you're certain it will be.